Type “A”

We are all broken in one or another way. Every single person has an early age trauma, the event that had unfixable effect on his entire life.

In my young age I’ve achieved quite a bit, but none of those achievements brought me happiness, the sense of stillness and calm. I was constantly running throughout my past life, experiencing anxiety, sense of urgency and hight stress. I keep on setting the plank higher and higher, making it unreachable and reach it. I realized that no matter what I do, I never truly enjoyed the prize at the finish line, the end result.

Am I a “type A”? If so, what made me that type person? Is being an overachiever a norm or disorder? The answer to this and many other questions must be in my childhood.

I grew up in the house where I never heard the words “I love you”. I am sorry mom and dad, but I honestly can’t recall a single time of my memory. My parents fought frequently, going through a serious crisis, screaming and yelling at each other. My father was always extremely strict with me, as as my mother. The only time I would get a hug from my mom is when my dad would beat me up so bad, that even her heart would melt and she would stick up for me. Unfortunately even those rare bursts of love would fade away in the history as I got older. There was never praise for doing good at school. The plank of being best in class was set by default and anything lesser than “A” in class was perceived as a personal failure. I learned pretty fast that the absence of punishment IS a praise. I got really good at hiding my failures by forging documents, scratching off the “B’s” or simply lying when asked what’s up in school. I never really shared my successes. Why bother, whey won’t get my parents excited as they were perceived the way it had always be by default.

Lack of love. The absence of love plants the type A seeds. It sets the individual to a constant running, the achievement mode. The sad part is that the person don’t even enjoy those wins, those achievements. He simply doesn’t know how to. He doesn’t know how celebrate success, how praise himself for the hard work. He can’t just sit down and relax after a serious achievement. I’m compensating for the love I didn’t get as a kid. Unconsciously I accomplish things just so my parents finally recognize the greatness in me. That little boy in me waits for his dad to tap on his shoulder and say “Good Job, Son! I am really proud of you!” That little boy waits on his mother to hold him and say “I’m proud of you son! I love you son.” That boy will never get older, he will never grow up and will always live in me.

I don’t feel bad for myself, I don’t brag for attention, I don’t seek for compassion. Especially I am not blaming anyone for anything. I simply observe and learn. I am beyond grateful for my parents, for the way I’ve been raised. I am so thankful for everything that has happened for me in my life up to this point. I won’t be myself without it all. It wouldn’t be a better Sasha or worse Sasha, it would be a totally different one. I am far from perfect, just like anyone on this planet. Let’s learn to accept ourselves the way we are, without conditions.